


Karma

by through_shadows_falling



Series: Supernatural Ficlets [37]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel and Cats, Fluff, Homeless Castiel, M/M, Rain, Runaway Dean, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 15:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4882909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/through_shadows_falling/pseuds/through_shadows_falling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The guy is surrounded by cats. </p><p>The dude is clearly homeless, with ripped jeans, a dirty hoodie, unwashed scruff, and greasy hair. And though Dean has watched several people side-step him with disgust on their faces, the man hasn’t bat an eye. </p><p>Dean takes it all in and wonders why the whole scene is so mesmerizing. It’s just some homeless dude and his pets. He’s seen weirder on his travels, that’s for sure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Karma

The guy is surrounded by cats. 

Again. 

Dean’s standing outside the crappy motel room he’d crashed in the night before, just watching him, transfixed. It’s like a movie playing out before his very eyes, on the sidewalk right across the street. 

The dude is clearly homeless, with ripped jeans, a dirty hoodie, unwashed scruff, and greasy hair. And though Dean has watched several people side-step him with disgust on their faces, the man hasn’t bat an eye. 

Instead, he’s focused on the ten or so cats that have surrounded him, yowling and begging and hissing at each other. The man alternately smiles and scolds them before he turns to rummage in his cardboard box shelter for something. He returns with several bowls and a giant bag of cat food. He pours equal portions in each, and then sets them out for the cats to chow down. Which they do, with vigor.

Dean takes it all in and wonders why the whole scene is so mesmerizing. It’s just some homeless dude and his pets. He’s seen weirder on his travels, that’s for sure. 

But maybe…maybe it’s the man’s unabashed kindness that keeps drawing him in. After all, this isn’t the first time Dean has seen him.

The first time, Dean caught sight of the guy helping a heavily pregnant woman and her young son cross the road. The second time, he’d chased after a young man who dropped his wallet to return it to him. The third time, he’d dropped change into a fellow homeless man’s cup, as if he didn’t need the coins for himself. 

And now he’s feeding stray cats. 

What’s  _with_ this guy?

And more importantly, why can’t Dean look away? He’d been here days longer than he’d planned, and he needs to get a move on before his dad tracks his cards to this location. He’d known once he left that he couldn’t stay in any one place too long, so why had he lingered here?

The answer seems obvious, as Dean holds the man in his gaze. He wants to talk to him, get his life story, figure out how the world can chew him up and spit him out, but he can still be so good. 

But that’s weird, so Dean just returns to his motel room. He lays on his bed and turns on the TV, not meaning to fall asleep, but that’s what happens anyways.

When he wakes up, it’s to the sound of thunder and harsh rain spattering the windows. Dean yawns and sits up, rubbing his neck. For a second his mind is blank, and then a stray thought niggles at him. 

The homeless guy and his cats….

Dean stands up and peers out the window. The rain is falling in sheets, so it’s hard to see. But under the glow of a streetlight, he can just make out a hunched figure no doubt getting soaked in the downpour. 

Before Dean knows what he’s doing, he’s tugging on his jacket, grabbing the motel room keys, and dashing into the storm. 

The man is sitting outside his box, and as Dean approaches, he thinks he can see circles of fluff inhabiting the tiny shelter. 

The guy gave up his nonexistent home to a bunch of  _stray cats_. Jesus Christ.

“Hey,” Dean says, breathless, as he stops before the man.

The man startles. “Can I…can I help you?” He has a deeper voice than Dean expected.

“I uh,” Dean starts, but he’s not sure what else to say. Damn it, he should’ve thought this through. The rain soaks him quickly, and he feels rivulets running down his back. “I’ve got a motel room across the street, if you want to get dry.”

The man stares at him, and Dean registers the vivid blue of his eyes. Raindrops drip from his eyelashes as he takes in the sight of Dean, obviously disbelieving in the way he remains tense. 

“I’m not propositioning you or anything,” Dean says, but he doesn’t know if saying that makes it worse or not, especially when the man’s eyes narrow.

“Seriously, I saw you feeding your cats and you just look like you need a break, okay? Come on. No strings attached, I promise. You can leave whenever. Just at least till it stops raining.”

The man continues to stare at him, and Dean finally notices how much he’s shivering. 

“It’s warm and dry. There’s shitty TV, too. It’s fine. I’m alone and… I’m Dean.” He holds out his hand, and Dean sees the exact moment when the man accepts his offer. He pauses to whisper words to his cats, and takes Dean’s hand.

Together, they hurry across the street and into Dean’s motel room. They’re both a mess, dripping onto the carpet, but Dean signals for the man to use the bathroom first. 

“Oh, wait,” Dean says, and he rifles through his duffel bag until he finds some of his pajamas, which were really just his older, rattier clothes. They may have holes, but they’re soft and warm. He hands them to the man, who stands frozen, stunned. 

“Why are you doing this?” the man asks.

“Karma,” Dean says with a small smile. “I’ve got my own razor, so you can use the one in there to shave if you want. Shaving cream’s on the sink.”

“Thank you, Dean,” the man says, and he disappears into the bathroom. 

While he showers, Dean changes into his own set of dry clothes. He realizes, as he sinks back onto his bed, that he really didn’t plan this very well. If the guy wants to sleep, which he should, since who knows when he last had a bed, they’d have to share, since Dean’s only got one queen. 

Oh well. Dean can sleep in his car if he needs to. He’s done it before, and he’ll most likely do it again.

When the man emerges from the bathroom thirty minutes later, Dean almost can’t recognize him. He’s clean, and freshly shaven, and…pretty attractive, for a homeless guy. Dean figured the man was older than him, but without the scraggly beard, he appears younger than Dean originally thought.

“I hung up my clothes to dry. I hope you don’t mind,” he says, and Dean shrugs. 

“That’s fine.” He hung up his own wet clothes on the desk chair. When the man shuffles awkwardly, Dean pats the space on the bed beside him. The man gulps, and Dean winces. “No, no, it’s not like that. I can go sleep in my car, if you want. I just figure you haven’t been on a bed in a while.”

“No. I haven’t.” The guy approaches cautiously, so Dean keeps still until he finally settles fully, his legs propped up. The man sighs as he leans against the headboard. “This is very nice. Really, thank you.”

“Yeah. No problem.” Dean switches the remote to the space between them so the guy can access it, too. They’re currently on a bad sitcom right now, the kind with canned laughter. “We’ve only got three channels, but take your pick.”

“This is fine.”

 They’re quiet for a while, but it’s not uncomfortable. Dean feels extra sleepy, what with the sound of the TV and the rain in the background, and the warmth of his bed. 

“I’m Castiel,” the man says suddenly. 

Dean flips onto his stomach and barely lifts his head from his pillow. ”Hmm?”

“My name. It’s Castiel.”

“Oh. Hi, Castiel.”

“Hello, Dean.”

“Mind if I take a nap?” Dean asks, stifling a yawn. “Don’t know why I’m so beat. Probably the rain. Always puts me to sleep.”

Castiel nods with a small smile. “Go ahead. I’ll watch over you.”

Dean’s too far gone to process those words, which some might’ve found creepy if he didn’t sense their owner’s sincerity. He falls asleep instantly.

When he wakes up, the room’s dark except for the TV, and Castiel has fallen asleep on his side of the bed. Dean props up on his elbows and watches him, admiring the way the TV lights flicker over his form. 

A thought occurs to him.

Maybe this was his sign. Maybe this was the universe telling him he should finally stop running, try to settle in and get a job, throw out his dad’s cards and make a fresh start for himself. He’d stuck here longer than any other place he’d passed through, after all.

Maybe there’s something here for him.

Dean’s dozing off and on when Castiel wakes up hours later. It’s still dark, but the TV’s on, and Dean knows that Castiel can see he’s also awake.

“Hey Cas?” Dean asks, his voice gruff with sleep.

“Yes?”

“You wanna get breakfast in the morning? There’s a good diner up the street.”

Castiel opens his mouth as if to protest, but his grumbling stomach cuts off his response. 

Dean laughs at his sheepish expression. “It’s all good, dude. I don’t care if you don’t have any money.”

Castiel shakes his head, his brows pinched in confusion. “Dean. Why are you doing this?”

Dean shrugs. “Because. You’re a good guy. It’s the right thing to do. And I haven’t done the right thing in a long time.”

Castiel leans back into his pillow, thoughtfully processing Dean’s words. “Thank you,” he says at last, his voice hushed.

“No problem, Cas.”


End file.
